Homecoming
by SecretFruits
Summary: A pet, loneliness, and homecoming.


Written for the QLFC, Season 6, Round 4.

Kenmare Kestrels

Chaser 1 - Write from a pet's perspective about mistreatment or abandonment (of pets or people).

Extra Prompts - (9, dialogue) "who's a good boy/girl", (14, restriction) no names, (15, song) There's No Home Like the One You've Got

Word Count: 1049

* * *

You can't remember what it was like to be born, and if you could, you wouldn't understand it. You remember warmth, the big man, the ashy fire, the smell of leaves.

You remember your mother and father, but mostly you remember that they're gone. But then, there came the big man, and you remember not feeling so lonely anymore.

You remember the big man crowing. " _Who's a good boy!"_ You remember him stroking your beak.

You remember the paddock, the wind against your feathers, the leaves against your beak. You remember _flight._

* * *

Even without your parents, there are Others.

Some are like you. You fly with them. They teach you how to clean your feathers and how to keep them straight. They teach you how to push away from the ground and how to dodge the trees and the fastest way to the lake.

But in the evening, it's clear that you aren't theirs. They return to families; their own nests. You're one of them, but you aren't at home with them.

You return to the big man. He pats you, strokes you, praises you. And there's no home you'd rather have than outside his nest.

* * *

It's the lake you love second most. You love soaring over it in the early morning, dipping your beak in and drinking as you glide. You love the colors when the sun comes up and goes down over it, the splashes from the giant squid; just _everything._

Eventually you take the big man there. It's the first time you've let anyone ride you. That closeness; it's a joy beyond what you've ever imagined.

* * *

Some of the Others are like the big man, and that's how you start to understand that he is _big_. It's the silver man you meet first. You like him. But he'll never be a part of you, and maybe that's why you won't let him ride you.

He doesn't seem upset. He smiles at the big man and he praises you. But when he calls you a _good boy_ you feel condescended as much as touched.

Not that you understand what it means to feel condescended.

You just know that, as much as you like the silver man, and he and the big man love each other, you don't want him to ride you.

* * *

One day, the big man takes you to meet cubs.

You aren't sure how you feel about cubs. You still remember missing your parents, and you associate cubs with that feeling of emptiness, of longing.

But the first one bows to you, bares his neck to you. And you smell the big man on him. You smell loneliness on him, the kind the big man saved you from, and you want to do the same for his cub.

You take that cub to the lake. You hear his laugh and his joy and you feel close.

* * *

You don't feel the same way about any of the other cubs. You smell the big man and your cub on some of them, and decide you like them, but you aren't sure you'll take any of them to the lake.

And then, one saunters up to you, strutting, _demanding._ You feel a fear you've never felt before, the rage of his audacity.

In one swipe, you see in his eyes that you've lost everything.

* * *

That evening, the big man cries.

They tie you up.

They'll take the sky from you. They'll take the lake from you. But they'll never take the big man from you. And, even then, tied up by the garden, there's no home you'd rather have.

* * *

" _I swear, he's a good boy! Always cleans his feathers!"_

You feel a rough hand yank at your feathers. "Who's the brute, huh?"

Anger, loneliness.

* * *

The big man has cubs come and visit. The silver man visits. But so does a man with an axe, and others like that cruel cub, others with nasty gleams in their eyes.

* * *

And then, you're free.

You don't know this man, and he smells like fear, like rage, like sadness. Like the slow strangle of mistreatment that you've come to know all so well.

And because of that, because now you're both free, you let him grip you and you take him to the skies.

* * *

You fly over water beyond anything you've ever seen.

You swoop down, dip your beak, try and drink.

And it's...it's _horrible!_ So horrible you nearly throw your passenger into it. It tastes like a rabbit covered in some sort of awful mud.

And then, maybe for the first time, you realize even the lake is gone. You'll never see it again.

* * *

On the tenth day, he says it's "safe".

You don't quite understand that, but you smell less fear on him. The rage is still there, but less sadness.

He lets you fly by yourself, just for the joy of flying, out where anyone could see. You catch three huge rabbits and share them with him. He roasts his, while you gulp down both of yours.

He strokes your feathers. "Who's a good boy?" And you remember the big man.

It starts to rain. If you understood more, if you could feel rage the way this man can, you would understand that you're both alone and persecuted and soaking wet with only each other for company and not enough to eat.

But you don't. All you understand is that you can smell and hear the big man around you, and you rest your head in the new man's lap, and you feel at peace.

And with him, you are home.

* * *

There's a full moon the next night.

You see the entire island from the sky. The new man looks small. So used to flying by night, neither of you can sleep.

You see the not-lake. You see the rabbits and the trees and the shore.

It's just you and him.

You land by the shore. He is wading into the water, and his face looks different…

...he's _smiling._

You step towards him, splashing him, and he laughs. It's a warm night, and suddenly, the water is cool and refreshing.

He splashes you back, and you let out a call. And slowly calls of sadness turn to calls of joy, and neither of you smell like fear.

 _Home._


End file.
